Coop's Corner: Some miles on the RT100

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Some miles on the RT100

Today's plan had been to head (drive) to Minneapolis early for coffee to help Mike with some computer issues, then a quick stop at mom's to both pickup and drop off some things, hurrying home to take advantage of the predicted "mid-50's" day for a ride. Perceptive Mike suggested that since the day was going to be so nice and that we'd have more Saturday's ahead far short of nice that I should just stay home to get an earlier start to the fine day. After seeing wife Peg off for her week-long visit east, I finished some chores, did some shopping and rigged up a temporary Powerlet pigtail for my GPS on the BMW. I was pretty sure I had an extra one around and I did though it's a bit short and won't be adequate for a permanent installation.

The bike started well at 46 degrees after sitting for a couple of weeks and I managed to keep it running now that I've got a bit more experience with the choke operation. Out the driveway, watching for running deer and the orange people chasing the deer. Our hunting season is in full swing and I saw many, many hunters on my ride today as well as a fair number of deer harvested.

Lunch at Pier4 in Alma.....

(Edit 11/18 - Couldn't find this yesterday)
The 'Special' - Pulled pork, 1/4 rack of ribs, fries and slaw

In the old days, every trip or almost every trip I made through Alma necessitated a ride up the hill to Buena Vista Park, the city of Alma's overlook above the river. Realizing I'd not been there even once this season, today was the day.

The short walk out to the overlook....

Alma, the Lock and Dam, Minnesota bluffs in the distance......

Now it was time for some riding and to start with, a trip down one of the nearby steep gravel roads. This was one of the first places I took my Ducati when I first brought it home back in 2004 after my nearly 20 year hiatus from riding.

That was then, this is now........no cows today, maybe the hunters got them all??

Down a bit further, the 2nd switchback......

The road ahead, continuing downhill.....

Later, here I am on Hanson Road, the first time I've gone up rather than down.

I was the only motorcyclist at the Pepin coffee shop this afternoon though not the only two-wheeled vehicle; the pedaller enjoying a cup as well. Normally we sit outside but resting inside felt pretty good today, at least until the coffee started doing what it does.

From Pepin I decided to head up the Wisconsin side of the river this time rather than down and around, making today's Lake Pepin route a counter clockwise version.

Here's one of the waysides; there are numerous overlooks and Historical Markers along the Wisconsin coast. The river (and lake) makes a huge right angled corner here, flowing from almost straight east to straight south. The bluff in the center of the photo is called Point-No-Point due to the fact that the riverboat captains can't seem to get 'past' it as they round the corner. We live in the valley beyond it; close and yet so far away.

And for some perspective, another Historical Marker nearby in 1979; Lake Pepin and a tugboat w/barges on the water. This is the 850 Suzuki I rode to the Maritimes that summer.

1981, the Moto Guzzi SP1000.....

After this stop, it was up to Hager City, across the river and back in Minnesota to Red Wing, then home. Just a bit over 120 miles today and I didn't fill the tank again this afternoon. I hope to get out once more tomorrow and if I take this bike, I'll be able to find out what kind of mileage it gets with today's combination of highway and narrow gravel use.

7 comments:

Erik RNovember 17, 2012 at 10:59 PM
It's been a few years since I've been up to Buena Vista Park. I've gassed up many times at the Kwik Trip in your first picture. I'm glad you got out for a ride in the nice weather!
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TrobairitzNovember 17, 2012 at 11:50 PM
My favorite picks the one from the overlook of the dam and lock.

But then I enjoyed your back in the day photos too. It is nice to see the bikes change over the years.

Beautiful day for a ride.
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Coop a.k.a. CoopdwayNovember 18, 2012 at 4:53 AM
My stops yesterday at the Historical Marker and the park at Buena Vista reminded me about how my riding has changed over the years. When I was living in the city, both places were, if not destinations, mandatory stops. No longer in the city, these spots don't get visited like they once did and that brings up some thoughts for an upcoming Post :)

Thanks once more for the inspiration friends!
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AnonymousNovember 18, 2012 at 7:32 AM
BeeMer is look'n good.... now.. you'll have to ride to .. Texas... or... Ho Dunk, Montana... have a burger and ride home... :)
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Coop a.k.a. CoopdwayNovember 18, 2012 at 7:47 AM
Mr. Anonymous, you barely know half of how much I'd like to visit those places!
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DanNovember 19, 2012 at 11:41 AM
What year is the RT, Doug? I had an 82' model and it hauled my sorry butt out to Colorado with ease.. Ended up selling it to a Guzzi rider in Milwaukee about 10 years ago.. You know how those Guzzi guys are..
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)